


A Matter of Trust

by The Neon Gang (clgfanfic)



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Old West
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 09:04:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/The%20Neon%20Gang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris is hurt, and Vin is worried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Seven Card Stud #2.

Vin Tanner cradled the cup of coffee and stared at the dark surface, trying to see the future.  Chris would live, of that he was absolutely sure, but beyond that basic fact he was ambivalent.  His jaws ground, anger and fear pounding through his body like a surge of adrenaline.  He wanted to stand, to hurl the cup across the room and rail against the wounded blond, but he couldn't.

Instead, he continued to focus on the surface of his coffee, remembering the events that had brought them here.  He knew it was tied to the last time he'd lain in Nathan's bed at the clinic himself, exactly three weeks ago.  He'd been bruised and battered, a colorful marvel, with sore ribs, a mild concussion and aching kidneys.

He trembled slightly, remembering the fear and helplessness he'd felt when he became the victim of an assault by a ruthless bounty hunter.  He knew Chris blamed himself for not reaching him soon enough.

Vin smiled faintly, remembering how they'd made love when he was finally up and around again.  But even then he'd known Larabee was fighting a major case of guilt.  But it wasn't until the following Monday that the real problems had started.

Larabee was playing mother hen with a vengeance.  Vin had known that was going to happen.  In fact, he'd expected it to happen, but he'd also expected it to wear off in a week or so.  It hadn't.

It was exactly three weeks later, and Larabee was still keeping him on a short leash, taking unnecessary chances, and this time it had gotten him shot.

Maybe he should've confronted his friend about it that first Monday.  Maybe he should've pounded the blond into the dirt to make his point; God knew that that's what it sometimes took to get through to the man.

Maybe he should've taken Chris up on the idea of a holiday down in Santa Marta.  And maybe they should've just refused the Judge's last job, which had them acting as security agents for a ranch payroll.

It had been a simple plan – too simple, looking back now.  There were more men after the payroll than the foreman expected.  More men and more guns…

Vin looked up at the sound of a throat being softly cleared.  Nathan stood, looking down at him, his practiced gaze taking in the tracker's hunched shoulders and pale face.

Vin stood.  "How's Chris?"

"He's doin' all right."  His gaze swept over the tracker's dirty, disheveled clothes and he asked, "You all right?"

"'M fine," Vin assured him.  "An' his shoulder?" he asked, his voice stripped of hope, just in case.

"His shoulder should be fine," the healer said, walking over to fix him a fresh cup of coffee.  "Gonna be sore for a while, but with a little work, he should be good as new."

"Thank y', Nathan," Vin said sincerely.

He gave the tracker a reassuring smile.  "He'll be fine."

"Wouldn't be hurt at all if he'd been thinkin'," Vin sighed, rubbing his eyes.  "When c'n I see him?"

"Maybe an hour or so, I'd guess.  He's sleepin' and he needs his rest.  I'm gonna go back and sit with him.  I'll let you know when he wakes."

Vin nodded, content to wait in the healer's room.

When Nathan left, the tracker sipped at the fresh coffee, his thoughts turning back to how Larabee had ended up in the clinic.

A gang had stolen the ranch payroll, but he and the other peacekeepers had tracked them down to where they'd holed up in an old barn.  Vin, knowing that Chris was apt to try and protect him, paired off with Josiah instead.  He and the preacher had entered the building at one end, Chris and Buck coming in at the opposite end.  The four men had worked their way toward the middle where the gang sat around a small fire while Ezra and JD took care of the horses and Nathan kept an eye out for any stragglers who might ride up.

Everything seemed perfect.  They'd had the men in a crossfire.  But they hadn't counted on their willingness to die to protect their ill-gotten gains.

All hell broke loose as soon as Larabee said his first word.  The thieves opened fire, one of them diving over the fire and scattering the embers.  Old, dry hay quickly caught and smoke filled the barn, flames quickly lapping up from the floor to the rafters as the fire caught the dry wood.

He and Chris had both focused on the two ringleaders who had the payroll saddlebags between them.  They each had followed one of the pair, working them toward the other in a squeeze play.  And it had looked like it was going to work.

They called for the two men to give up, and they had, their hands coming up. But then another of the outlaws had appeared out of the smoke, Vin and Chris both spotting the man at the same time.

The man raised his revolver and the gunslinger reacted first, sprinting toward Vin.  The bullet caught Larabee in the shoulder, slamming him to the ground before the tracker could do anything to stop it.  Vin still managed to fire a shot, killing the shooter.

Chris, curled into a ball, then unfolded, rolled up and climbed to his feet, still clutching his Colt.  His free hand covered the bleeding wound.

"Are y' crazy, Larabee?" Vin exploded, then choked as he sucked in a lungful of the smoke.

Chris ignored the comment, moving in on the two ringleaders and kicking their dropped weapons away.

They took the payroll bags, Vin swinging both over his shoulders.  Outside, Buck and Josiah tied up the two ringleaders while Ezra took the stuffed saddlebags and draped them over their horses – he refused to ride with them himself, determined not to tempt himself again.  Nathan did what he could to help Chris there.

They escorted the survivors to town and put them in jail to await trial.  The payroll money was handed over to the local banker for safe keeping.

Chris managed three steps beyond the bank before the shock of the wound and the effects of the smoke finally buckled his knees.  Vin and Nathan held him on his feet, each wrapping one arm around the man's waist and helping him to the clinic…

Vin scooted down in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him.  He was tired and dirty and he smelled like smoke.  His eyes dropped closed, but he shook his head to stay awake.  After he saw Chris he'd go get cleaned up, get some sleep.

He glanced at the clock sitting on a small table by the window.  He'd been waiting nearly four hours.

"Vin?" Nathan called softly from the doorway.

He glanced up at the healer as he sat straight.

"He's awake."

"'Bout damn time," the tracker muttered, nearly bolting from his chair.

"I'm gonna go grab me somethin' to eat.  Be back quick as I can."

Tanner nodded.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Vin stepped into the small room, his gaze sweeping over the gunslinger.  Chris's color was good and he was breathing easily.  He sighed with relief, then stepped up to the narrow bed.  "Y' awake, Cowboy?"

Larabee blinked and opened his eyes.  "You callin' me a cowboy?  Hell, yes I'm 'wake," he managed around a dry mouth.  "You bring any water?"

Vin saw the half-full glass sitting on the bedside table and picked it up.  "Here," he said, holding it to his lover's lips.  The blond took several swallows, then kissed the tracker's fingertips before Vin could pull away.

"You taste smoky," the blond whispered.

Vin grinned and shook his head.  "That help?"

"Yeah," Chris said.  "A little more?"

Tanner held the glass up to Chris's lips again.  Then he reached out and stroked the blond's cheek with a knuckle.  "You're damned lucky, Larabee."

"So Nathan said."

"That was a pure stupid move t'day."

"Sort of figured that one out all by myself," he admitted sheepishly.

"I know why y' did it," Vin continued.  "But—"

"I know what you're gonna say," Chris interrupted him.  "I'd better not do it again, or you'll shoot me dead yourself."

"Y' took the words right outta m' mouth," Vin said, adding under his breath, "more or less."

Larabee grinned sleepily.  "Even when I was doin' it, I knew it was stupid, but I couldn't stop myself."  He met Vin's gaze, the grin fading.  "All I could see was you, lying there on the ground."

"Get some rest, Chris," Vin instructed, leaning over to kiss the man's forehead.  "We'll talk this out when you're feelin' better."

Larabee nodded, his eyes falling closed.

Vin waited for a moment to make sure his lover was asleep, then turned and headed outside.  He waited for Nathan to return, then headed for the bathhouse, taking a long-overdue hot soak.  He grabbed himself a beer and whatever Inez had cooked up, and after that, he found his very empty bed.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Several days later Chris was well enough to leave Nathan's care.

"How's it feel?" Vin asked him as they descended the stairs.

"Not too bad," Larabee replied.  "Just a little sore."

Back at the boarding house, Vin helped Chris put his stuff away in the small room the gunslinger rented, and then they headed down to get something to eat at the restaurant.

When their meal was over, Vin helped Chris back to his room and into bed.  When he returned a few hours later, he found the gunslinger stretched out, still napping.  Vin turned, planning to take the food he was carrying back downstairs and eat it himself when he heard, "You gonna just stand there, or are you gonna give me something to eat?"

Vin handed over the plate and silverware, then watched while Chris dug into his meal with vigor.  When he was done, the tracker took the plate and silverware back downstairs and returned with two cups of coffee.

"Guess we better have us a talk," Vin said as he sipped his coffee.

"Yeah, I guess we'd better," Chris agreed without looking at his lover.  "Vin, I know what I did was foolish."

The tracker turned just far enough so he could meet Larabee's gaze.  "No, what y' did was just plain stupid."

Chris shrugged.  "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"But y' just said yerself y' knew it was stupid."

Chris fought back the desire to yell.  " _Foolish_ , but good," he amended.

"Y' cain't keep tryin' t' protect me.  If y' do, we're both gonna end up dead."  There, it was said.

"I know," Chris snapped, but his voice softened as he continued.  "I was just feeling a little protective—"

"Like an ol' coyote with one pup left," Vin corrected.  "Because 'a that beatin'," he finished.  "I know why y' did it, Chris, but it's gotta stop."

"I know that, too."

Vin stood and leaned back against the wall, his coffee cup in his hand.  "I love y', y' do know that, don't ya?"

The blond nodded.  He knew, but Vin didn't say it often.

"'M still a wanted man—"

"That's why I was playin' it safe," Chris replied softly.

"Why?  So y' c'n get yerself killed before I do?"

Larabee shrugged.  "Be easier that way," he admitted.

"Damn it, Chris, I don't wanna be without you any more 'n you want t' be without me."

"You mean that?" Chris asked him, the surprise clear on his face and in his voice.

"I ever give y' some reason t' think I wouldn't?"

"No," Larabee admitted as he shook his head.  He ran a hand over his hair.  "I guess seeing you get beat like that just spooked me.  I was feeling some of that emptiness I felt when Sarah died.  Didn't like the feeling much then, less now."

Vin moved over to sit on the bed beside his lover.

Chris sighed heavily.  "I just don't want to lose you, Vin.  I can't.  I can't go through that again."

Vin dipped his head, the depth of the man's love for him clear in the desperate tone of his voice.  "Guess we're just gonna have t' take care 'a ourselves, so we can take care of each other.  Deal?"

Chris smiled.  "Deal."

"Maybe we oughta take that trip to Santa Marta we've been talking about," Larabee suggested.

Vin nodded.  "Was thinkin' the same thing.  And Chris… lovin' someone, y' want t' take care 'a 'em, protect 'em, but seein' you hurt hurts me more 'n gettin' beat or shot."

Chris leaned down and set his empty cup on the floor.  "Just remember I'm feeling the same way, okay?"

"Yeah," Vin replied, "I'll do that."

Chris edged closer to the tracker, then leaned over to lick his earlobe.  "You remember what you did to me the last time we were in Wickenberg?"

Vin closed his eyes and smiled.  "I made love t' y' 'til y' begged me t' stop," he said and chuckled.

"I'm going to do that," Larabee purred.  "I wanna make you beg."

Vin dipped his head, but Chris caught his chin, his lips capturing the tracker's. The kiss was soft and gentle, but both men could feel the desperation humming just below the surface.  They needed to hold each other.  They needed to love and be loved; to heal in more than physical ways.

"What if I don't beg y' t' stop?" Vin asked, his tone clearly teasing.

"Oh, you'll beg all right," Chris promised.  "First you'll beg me _not_ to stop, then you'll beg me _to_ stop."

"Pretty damned sure 'a yerself, Cowboy," the tracker growled.

"Damned right I am," Larabee replied.  "I know you, Vin Tanner… inside and out."

"Prove it," the younger man challenged.

And Chris took him up on it…

 

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

* ~ *


End file.
